Never Cried
by lostloveloki
Summary: The clear night sky illuminated Asgard with the wondrous constellations unknown to other realms, swirling millions of miles away in their timeless interplay or history and future. The twinkling behemoths of gas shone, oblivious to the tragedies that befall men and women in all Realms, whether mortal or immortal. Even those deemed immortal can die. Family fic.


Though it was highly unorthodox, the funeral pyre Loki and Sif had built was sent off with only their family at their side. In the dense silence that permeated every pore of the luminous kingdom, Loki nodded softly, holding the little light in his hand close to his heart.

Thor raised his hammer with a sigh. The clear night sky illuminated Asgard with the wondrous constellations unknown to other realms, swirling millions of miles away in their timeless interplay or history and future. They wore the mantel of what has been, and beamed with the light of what could still come. The twinkling behemoths of gas shone, oblivious to the tragedies that befall men and women in all Realms, whether mortal or immortal.

Even those deemed immortal can die.

"Push, Lady Sif! Push!" the midwife coaxed, kneeling on the birthing bed between the steely thighs of the Prince's wife. Her body was drenched in sweat, from the tips of her hair, to her toes. Digging her nails in Loki's upper arm, she grunted in exertion, locking her jaw and squeezing her eyes shut.

"You can do it, Sif," Loki said hoarsely, dabbing her face with his cool Jotun hand. He looked worn out, the tension of being a helpless bystander ripping at his seams after all these hours of waiting.

Her labor had begun fifty hours ago in the middle of the Thor's engagement banquet. The freshly betrothed couple sat at the head table, seated beside Odin and Frigga, glowing with joy and the effects of mead. Thor wrapped a comforting arm around his blue clad fiancée who had foregone her usual plain hairstyle in favour of a series of intricate braids which came together as a plain crown, in a style similar to the Queen's usual updo. Their smiles were contagious as they looked intently towards Loki. Loki stood towards the side of the hall, telling the story of how Thor had met Jane during his exile, and regained Mjölnir when he thwarted Karnilla's plan to take over the nine realms. The tale dripped from Loki's lips like pure honey, sweet and memorable, lingering with fondness in the minds of those who listened. Rich illusions accompanied his tale for the entertainment of all the children who had gathered by Loki's feet. They gasped, laughed and yelped, reacting to each epic turn in the narrative, clapping joyfully when the illusion couple kissed (though some young boys expressed their revulsion with the vigour of would-be-warriors). Sif couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips, and moved to sip juice from her chalice to cover her reaction. Stroking her stomach, filled with their long overdue child, her eyes brightened just a little more.

Loki was so very gifted with children. Though he'd had his difficulties as a child, he knew how to capture the imaginations of the little ones with a mere flick of his tongue. The children reveled and cheered as the tale drew to an end, and the images disappeared in a dull green flash. The hall echoes with appreciative clapping, before most children rose and ran off to their parents.

"Prince Loki!" quipped a little boy, with blue eyes the size of saucers, "Will you tell us another story? Please! Please! Please!" He stood a couple meters away from Loki, not turning away though he was the only one who remained.

Smiling tenderly, Loki walked over to the slender little boy and tousled his golden retriever locks. "Later, Tormod. But first I should ask the lovely Warrior lady for permission," he chuckled.

He shot Sif a glance. Her lips tugged into a smile, and she nodded. "Permission gra-"

A bloodcurdling scream sang to him.

"You're nearly there, Lady Sif!" the pepper-haired midwife exclaimed joyously, as a little blue head crowned beneath masses of blood and other unsavory liquids. "The babe takes after its father already," she announced, glancing up toward Loki's blue hand, skin crinkling further around her eyes.

Sif smiled weakly falling back against the pillows as the contraction ended.

"You're doing so well, darling," Loki crooned, kissing Sif's forehead. "You're so strong. So much stronger than anyone else I've ever known."

"Thor might disagree," she panted softly, slowly raising her head slightly, but giving up immediately.

"He can disagree all he wants. The day he pushes a child out of his limb I will concede that he's stronger than you, but I'm betting that will not occur… without my intervention at least."

That earned him a breathy laugh, before her grip on his arm tightened again, drawing fresh blood to coat her already ruby fingers.

"One strong push! Just one more, my lady!" Mustering up every last ounce of will in her tired limbs, she pushed. The babe came out fluidly, with the guiding hands of the Midwife, before she cut the cord.

There was no sound in the room but Sif's restless pants.

The wrinkled lips of the midwife pressed together in a deep frown. Her cheeks grew flaccid and her demeanor fell, with the weight of a thousand unloved moons. She cast aside the bloodied scissors carefully, and looked down at the frail little creature in her arms.

"What? What is it?" Loki asked, voice rising in panic. He wrenched himself free from Sif's weakening grasp, and hurried towards the midwife, who dejectedly lowered her head and raised the babe up towards him.

"I'm sorry."

Sif had borne a beautiful, blue daughter, the Jotun marking of a queen and sorceress lining her delicate little body, beside the marks of courage. Her chubby little cheeks lay unmoving, as did the rest of her tiny body.

A thick blue noose hung around her neck.

Hugin and Munin fell off their perch outside the birthing chamber, as the raking scream of despair and loss echoed through the once expectant halls of Asgard.

Tears smarted in Sif's eyes when the brilliant white lightning crashed down through the night sky, striking the small wooden boat carrying only a warmly dressed little child in the wooden bassinet Loki had spent countless hours carving in anticipation of her arrival.

Loki's arm found Sif's waist, and pulled her closer, never taking his eyes off the flames that fed on the product of their union. He held back the sobs that threatened to erupt in a storm that would destroy any semblance of sanity he still possessed.

Odin let go of the first light, quickly followed by Frigga, Thor and Jane. The floated peacefully unaware of the horror, the despair, and numbness etched in the hearts that let them go. Loki shifted slowly to stand behind Sif, and allowed his light to disappear.

"Loki-"He pressed her face into Sif's hair, trembling from his core. His hands traced along the skin of her lower arm until it hovered above Sif's pure white light.

"Unn deserved more," he breathed into her ear, his unshed tears ringing in the soft murmur of his once vibrant voice. The sphere grew until it was thrice its original size and took on a soft blue tint, shining serenely for them.

"Rest in peace, beloved one," Sif whispered, allowing her tears to shed at last, as their joint light finally took flight to the stars.

Silence rung throughout Asgard in mourning.

Mourning the child that never cried.


End file.
